Harry Potter: Shadow Raven
by SlytherinSnake6886
Summary: While doing his daily list of chores, Harry Potter has a pain in his back that leads up to an inheritance, magic of all sorts, denial, hatred, and allegiances will be confirmed in this story. No one other than I can see what side will win. Dark!Creature!Harry, Dumbles and Weasley bashing, possible ship (maybe drarry, I quite like that shipping).
1. Prologue

Harry Potter: The Shadow Raven

Prologue: Three Weeks Before First Year.

A/N: So glad to be back! I've got a whole lot of stories this time, and most are in work on paper right now! For starters, before this story begins, you should know that I got the idea from a story called 'True Elemental' by Impish Delight. They made Harry a Shadow Panther, I made him a Shadow Raven. This is my way of saying 'their idea, I tweaked it'. I do hope they don't mind.

Disclaimer: Imma say this once, so listen. I'm not J.K. Rowling, I'm not a professional writer, and I sure as hell don't have billions of dollars. I DO NOT own Harry Potter nor it's characters, I merely borrow them and own this story. I've gotten the formalities out of the way, let's begin.

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It was a sweltering summer afternoon in Surrey. All over the place you could see people either drinking gallons of icy water, swimming, or in the case a certain house on privet Privet, a young ten year old raven haired boy was sitting outside, not a drop of much needed water in sight. Instead were gardening tools, a garbage bag, and pools of sweat.

The child, known as Harry Potter, was weeding the garden. Before he could have lunch (or rather, what was left of it) he needed to wash the car, weed the garden, water the plants, mow the lawn, and paint the fence.

Harry was incredibly small and fragile-looking for his age. He had a slight tan from working in the garden for so many hours a day. He had cuts and bruises of all shapes, colors, and sizes.

He was hardly fed. His relatives, the Dursleys, would give him tap water and small scrapes of food after his lengthy list of chores. He also was small because of where he slept; the cupboard under the staircase.

He was Dudley Dursley's cousin, and was sent to live with him and his maternal aunt and uncle, Petunia and Vernon, after both of his parents died when he was barely over a year old.

Drunk driving, he was told. That was how his aunt had said they died, and how he got his peculiar scar. It looked like a bolt of lightening.

They, at the very best, treated him like dirt. He thought that was because of his appearance. He looked absolutely nothing like them. His aunt was thin and looked very much like a blond horse. His uncle had brown hair and a large mustache of equal pigmentation. He looked like a whale, and hi son fared no better; His cousin was fat and pink faced like his father, but had blond hair like his mother. He looked like a pg and humanoid hybrid.

Harry, on the other hand, was scrawny, nothing like his aunts thinness and a far cry from being a whale like his cousin and uncle. He had jet black hair that was rebellious, it would not stay straight and one night, when his aunt shaved off all but the bangs (to hind the ugly scar), it all grew back over night in all its messy glory.

But the strangest thing about him was his unnerving, deep emerald eyes. They were just like his mothers. They displayed many emotions at the moment; anger, hurt, sadness. When he looked one right in the eye, they would swear up and down that he was staring into their soul. Another thing that was disconcerting about those eyes was an odd black ring around them. When he was angry enough, his eyes would turn a deep crimson.

Last, but certainly not least, was his scar. On his forehead, he had a scar like no one had seen. It was not a straight line, nor was it jagged and weird It was the spitting image of a lightening bolt. His aunt had said it was because of the car accident almost eleven years ago.

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Harry had long since finished with the gardening, and was finishing up the last chore, when his back started to feel like it had broken. He thought nothing of it and went inside.

Lunch was the scrapes of a peanut-butter and apple jelly sandwich, and he started to feel progressively worse. He retired to his cupboard for the night and tried to get some sleep. Which of course was a failed plan before it had happened.

He tossed and turned, fluffed what little of a pillow he had, and even tried hanging upside down. Nothing worked, and the pain just kept getting worse. The Dursleys had left after lunch and hadn't returned yet, which was probably a good thing for what happened next.

Harry hadn't thought much of the pain other than years of exhaustion and little to no food or hydration catching up to him, and it would go away soon enough.

But know, as he lay on the make-shift bed of his, he thought the pain was going to kill him. It felt as though someone poured gasoline on him and lit him on fire, put the flame out before it could kill him, stuck white-hot hooked needles into every pore, and then yanked them out once the were hooked tightly. If he had known what the Cruciatus curse was like, it would have been a walk on a cool spring day (even if dealt by a _very_ angry Voldemort) compared to this.

He was screaming, but about two minutes ago his vocal cords gave out, leaving him without a means of distracting himself of the pain. By now, his brain and all thought process was reduced to a puddle of goop.

He felt his bones break, and something coming out of his back and the back of his head. Then, it just _stopped_. It didn't fade, it didn't wither away. It just _stopped_. Slowly, the boy pushed himself off the bed and over to a mirror.

He blinked owlishly for a minute or two and pinched himself in case he had passed out, because that pain was **no** dream.

He had _wings_. Black, feathery _wings. _His hair, he noticed, was still there, but something was amiss. He felt his hair, and then it it hit him like a ton of bricks; his hair had _feathers _underneath it.

He felt sick, and went to bed, hoping and praying to any and every god that came into his mind that was just a horrible nightmare.

He didn't know this was the first of many horrendous and alarming things to come in his coming years.


	2. The Birthday

Harry Potter: Shadow Raven

Chapter 1: The Birthday That Harry Shan't Soon Forget.

A/N: It's a quill! It's a story! It's J.K. R- Oh, wait. Never mind. Just SlytherinSnake6886, bringing you this rockin' story. Honestly, four hours ONLY? It took me less than an hour to _write _the first chapter, and in less than four hours, I get two reviews, four favorites, and five follows?! Brings a tear, really does :'D. Makes me wonder if I really am only twelve. Glad to know my writing is good to y'all.

Ask questions as well, I'll answer! Oh! And as for The Willow Maiden, I came up with this by... Listening to Marauders Map by Ministry of Magic. Yep.

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It was the morning of July thirty-first, 1992, that a birthday-boy was being pointedly ignored within the housing of number four, Privet Drive. It didn't take long to notice the boy, Harry, was being uncharacteristically _happy._

_About three weeks ago..._

Harry Potter was attempting to be woken up by a loud and shrill shriek of one Petunia Dursley.

It was a rather fruitless, seeing as the night before he had come into his creature inheritance, courtesy of his long gone ancestors, the Peverells (to be exact, Ignotus Peverell).

He was supposed to come into the aforementioned inheritance at age sixteen, but do to the fact that Harry's magic had been battling the somewhat inconspicuous binding spell put on his magical core, it lead to an eruption of just less than three quarters of his full magic potential placing itself where it needed to be. It unintentionally unlocked the inheritance early.

Petunia didn't truly care if he was alright and set to making breakfast herself. She would be perfectly content if the boy just withered up and died.

_Yesterday..._

Harry had finally woken up after a three week long visit to the land of dreams. He turned to the side to get up and make breakfast for the others when he felt paper under his elbow.

He picked it up, and looked to see if it was of any importance. It read:

_Dear, Mister Potter,_

_I have been keeping a watchful eye on you ever since your father, James Potter, had made me do an Unbreakable Vow on your protection. Your father and I were great friends, I was only second to your mother, Lily. My name is Raevyn Night._

_Now, back to you. I had seen you sprout your wings, young man. That is what the Wizarding World refers to as coming into a creature inheritance. It had to do with a binding (blocking) spell put on your magical core, to keep you from realizing your true potential as a wizard._

_Now, as for the creature you have become, you are one and seventy-five quarters human and the rest being that of a Shadow Raven. I still can't fathom how Ignotus managed to mate with one, let alone have a human child. Off topic, you can also speak Parseltongue (snake talk). You can thank Voldemort for that one._

_Anyway, after you read this letter, it will turn into a stack of books about Shadow Ravens. Just say 'book'._

_Now, I wish you a great year. Trust me, Hogwarts is a great school. Don't tell any Slytherins I said that, the lot still kind of hate me. But I do think think Dumbledore is teetering on the edge of his rocker. Keep an on him, okay?_

_With love,_

_Raevyn N._

The only way to describe how he was feeling was a combination of ill, excited, and gobsmacked. He didn't think much of the letter other than something like _this lady's jumped the shark._ Nevertheless, he wanted to see what would happen fake or not.

"Book" he whispered, not wanting to awake his 'family'. To his surprise and utter delight, the parchment started glimmering, and before his very eyes, turned into a tower of books. He couldn't wait.

He pulled the first book off the top. It was titled _Rare Creatures: A Guide to the Elusive. _Looked over the rest of the labels. He decided on first reading _Shadow Creatures: History and Behaviors. _He found a bookmark already in place, and flipped to page two hundred sixty-eight.

**Shadow Ravens.**

**The Shadow Raven, like most other shadow creatures, can manipulate the shadows around them. This takes little effort, but trying it the first few times might hurt a little. They can use the shadows for different things, such as needing an escape. It would manipulate and bend the shadows to it whim and transport to another place. This is commonly referred to as 'shadow traveling'.**

**When a witch or wizard mates with these birds, they can produce a child of theirs or from much later on that may have a Shadow Raven creature inheritance. When people with such an inheritance goes through the process, they are able to do practically anything these birds can do. Even fly. Although they will no doubt have a natural affinity towards Dark magic, they are not generally evil; the choices they make will determine that outcome.**

**There is an easy way to hide such a change after an inheritance. The incantation is _Alis Protege Me Plumis._**

**Also, all senses will be heightened, such as eyesight.**

He spent that whole day reading and practicing the spell until perfection, which he received.

_Present morning..._

"Boy, what's got you all perky?" asked his uncle, Vernon.

"Oh, nothing, sir." Harry said quietly. "Well, then, go fetch the post."

He nodded and proceeded walked to the door. In the small stack of papers he found the usual letter, bill, invitation, and a- _what?_ In emerald green writing, there was a letter. Addressed to _him._

Now, despite what you all might think, Harry was a bit more clever than meets the eye. So when he saw the letter, he thought if he harbored it for himself and tried to open it in front of them, they would take it from them, and chances were they knew what it was.

So instead on the way back to the kitchen, he slipped it into the slits on his cupboard door.

After handing the mail to the others, he scarfed down what little food was on his plate and excused himself to his room.

OoOoOo

The letter was peculiar enough with_out_ being open. They knew where he slept, and that was crossing lines a _tad_ bit. He read the letter, and would have laughed had he not gone through magic related scenarios before. He was ready for Hogwarts.

A/N: Next chapter: Diagon Alley. Twist, it's not Hagrid who takes him. How will this effect the story? Read and find out!


	3. Daigon Alley

Harry Potter: Shadow Raven

Chapter Three: Of Snakes and Alleys

A/N: If by the chapter name you can guess who's taking Harry to Diagon Alley, Then you get an internet cookie (::). I don't know what AU is, but I think it mean something like 'Author's Universe'. Taking something and making it a lot different. If that's the case, This is AU, I suppose. This chapter is the afternoon of Chapter Two.

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Harry Potter was a _tremendously _happy child.

The Dursleys were the most angry family alive, and the ones who probably would win the award for being the palest human beings without being albino.

Severus Snape looked like his face was frozen in a cross between shock and a sneer.

_Flashback to this morning at Hogwarts..._

Severus Snape was taking his time walking to Headmaster Dumbledore's office. He had told Severus he wanted to pick up a student from his home because he hadn't known he was a wizard. _Probably another muggleborn child,_ thought Severus._ Just what I need, another ignorant child in my classroom._

He reached the office and on the way he took ten points from Ravenclaw for blocking the hallway. _And they're supposed to be the smartest in the school?_

He muttered the password to the gargoyle,"lemon sherbet", and proceeded to climb swiftly up the staircase to the bumbling fool of a Headmaster.

"Ah, Severus! So glad you came. Lemon drop?" Albus was a man with good intentions, he just didn't realize he could be wrong for once in his more than century long life.

"No, sir," he politely declined, "I would like to pick up this child so I may get back to brewing a particularly difficult potion of mine." "Very well. This boy's address is number four, Privet Drive, Surrey. His name is Harry Potter."

The minute the name was said, Severus was lost in memories long forgotten. They were better that way. Albus snapped his fingers a couple of times to get his attention. Several seconds later, Severus entered the present day once more.

"Albus, are you sure there isn't anyone else who could retrieve the boy?" "No, Severus. Everyone else is doing something else somewhere." He mentally sighed, "alright."

_Present time..._

Harry didn't know _what_ to expect, but he knew someone was to retrieve him from his relatives. So when Severus knocked on the door it was like a miracle.

Severus had greasy black hair and a robe of the same color. His eyes were like two onyx's, calculating and identifying all around him. The most prominent this about him was his odd hooked nose.

He introduced himself and ask where Harry was. Vernon called (more so screamed) for the boy, and where he appeared fro made Severus' eyes widen a small fraction.

He was slightly malnourished, had bruises all over him, and he all around just looked a _mess_. It made him think of his childhood.

"Oh, hello. Who are you?" said Harry, holding his hand out to shake. Severus took the hand and shook it, and asked him if he had received his Hogwarts letter yet. He nodded and pulled it out of his pocket, and it made his family pale to the point of a living ghost.

"I'll take _that._ He belongs no where with _your _kind," said Vernon, "We promised to beat the magic out of him when we took him in! He will _not _go with you!" "Yes I will." All eyes zoomed to Harry, he was never defiant. "Oh? And just_ how _do you plan on doing that, then?" "Easy. I move my feet to and out the door, plain and simple. You don't rule me. I will not play the roll of a house-elf."

Now Severus was confused. Hadn't he been told the boy didn't know about magic? "Well, Potter, go get your things." "Okay, sir."

Around two minutes later, he returned with a stack of books, in which Severus shrunk to fit in a pocket. Without another word, they set off for Diagon Alley.

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About ten minutes after arriving at Diagon Alley, Harry couldn't take the silence much longer and asked about Severus' name. "You may refer to me as your Potions professor, Professor Snape." "Okay. What kind of classes are taught at Hogwarts?" "For first years, we teach the basics; Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Astronomy, History of Magic, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and only for first years we give them flying lessons. Electives are for third years and above." The rest of the walk was somewhat like a game of twenty questions.

In around five minutes of questions, they had arrived at Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. The had already been to Gringotts bank.

They went inside and both noticed a young blond boy probably Harry's age. He looked over to them when the door opened and smiled. "Hello, Severus! Is that another Mu- I mean, muggleborn kid?"

Harry looked a little angry at what he said, so he put in his two knuts. "I'm a Halfblood, not a Mudblood, thank you very much." The unexpected use of words drew the attention of the both of them.

The blond was the first to shake the surprise off, leaving Severus to dwell in old memories. "So, if you're a Halfblood, that means you have one magic parent. Why didn't they take you?" the blond asked. "Because, they are both dead. I was told they died in a car crash, but I'm not so sure anymore. Not many things could make a scar like this." He pushed his bangs away to show his lightening scar.

"Whoa! You're Harry Potter, Aren't you? I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy." The boy, Draco, held out his hand. Harry took the hand and shook it. "Um, yes. I'm Harry Potter. How do you know me?" Severus finally broke out of his daze. "Everyone knows you, Mr. Potter." Harry jumped a little, making Madam Malkin tut him in a negative, as he was being fitted for robes.

"So, you're going to Hogwarts?" asked Draco. "Yes. And you?" "Same. Do you know which House You'll be in?" Harry was a bit confused. Seeing the confused look on his face, Draco explained. "There are four Houses at Hogwarts. Hufflepuff, for the loyal and hard working; Ravenclaw, for the quick witted and the wise; Gryffindor, for the supposed 'brave' and 'courageous', but to me their just stupid; and the House _I'm_ going to without a doubt, Slytherin. They are the kids with wit, conning, and are ambitious." Harry really didn't know what House he belonged in, so he just shrugged.

Around ten minutes later, both boys had their robes and went their separate ways.

After getting books, potions ingredients, a cauldron and some other things, the made it to Olivander's, a wand shop.

They walked inside and right out of the blue popped a man with scraggy and wiry white hair, deep forest green robes. Harry could only assume that this man was Olivander.

"Hello there, Severus! Another young wizard looking for a wand, hmm? You know I remember your wand. Thirteen and a half inches, Dragon heartstring core, Hawthorn." Harry looked awestruck. "You can remember _all_ of the wands you've sold?" "For the most part, yes." answered Olivander.

After Harry told Olivander his name, and after much measuring, the wands were flying. Hawthorn, Elm, Holly, until he pulled out an Ash wand.

"Ash, twelve and three-quarter inches, Phoenix feather core. Go on, give it a wave." and Harry did just that. He waved it, and sparks of green and blue flew from the wand. "Interesting, the Ash wand is suited for those of undoubted courage and are often stubborn. They aren't easily swayed from a certain belief. That Phoenix feather, though, came from a Phoenix who only gave one other feather. It resides in the wand whose owner gave you that scar."

They paid for the wand and left the store.

Severus took Harry home and gave him the ticket for platform nine and three-quarters, and told him how to reach the platform.

Soon, he would be out of Privet drive learning magic. How could it get any better?

A/N: Yep, I changed his wand wood and size. What of it? I just felt that I wanted to change the wand because of the creature inheritance. New chapter soon!


	4. Hogwarts Express, friends, and enemies

Harry Potter: Shadow Raven

Chapter four: The Hogwarts Express, and Enemies with Friends.

A/N: I'm so sorry! I've been reading a lot and also got caught up in watching a new anime called Inuyasha. I love it, although before I saw the first episode I thought Inuyasha kind of looked like a girl (Before the first episode I had never heard him speak, so, yeah.). With that bit of randomness, let's get on with the story. Oh, and ante meridiem is AM (Latin for before noon) post meridiem PM (Latin: after noon) Knowledge nugget of the day!

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Harry woke up early on September first, around seven ante meridiem, four hours before the train left platform nine and three-quarters. Around an hour later, he finished his chores (small list today, probably because he was leaving in a few hours). Soon, his barnyard-like relatives awoke demanding breakfast.

After possibly the longest four hours in his life, they made it to Kings Cross train station. He looked toward the brick 'wall' in between platforms nine and ten. The Dursleys were laughing at the fact they didn't know where it was, and since they didn't see it, the thought it wasn't real.

"Have fun at your new school, freak," Vernon shouted to him before speeding off. Harry didn't mind, as he already knew where the barrier was. He smirked before picking up his trunk with little effort (the inheritance having boost some things a tiny bit, like his senses) and made a mad dash at the wall, hoping no muggles were looking.

He was a hairs width away before he passed through. It felt as if walking through a light sprinkle of water, though when he looked he was completely dry. Then he noticed the sight before him.

There weren't many words that described how he felt _exactly._ But there _was_ a word to describe the platform: magnificent.

It was so beautiful. The train, the signs, _everything _just looked magical! He stopped his gawking to notice the train was about to give the final warning for passengers to board the train. He quickly ran off to find a compartment on the train and maybe see that boy he'd met at the robe shop, Draco, he recalled.

About ten minutes into the train ride, he was bored out of his mind. He was tempted to fly next to the train, but if he was caught it would be quite hard to explain a boy with a premature creature inheritance, wouldn't it?

So he just sat and read the books he bought for class. Again. Soon he finished with those once more, and it was barely noon. He looked around to make sure he was alone. Once he was sure he was, he pulled out a book he'd stolen from Borgin and Burkes.

Now, he didn't normally steal things, but if he did he'd be prodigy in the criminal world. He could steal with his eyes closed if needed. He only stole the book because one, Severus had to go in there for something or another, and two, Harry knew that he would be punished for buying it. It was a Dark Arts book.

He looked at the cover more carefully know, taking in the meticulously designed covering and hand-written words: Dark Arts for Beginners.

It looked interesting, but what made him 'buy' it was the fact that it actually _called out _his name. It pulled him in with such a strange magical force, he knew he needed that book. So he nicked it.

He started reading it, and became so engrossed in the book he didn't notice the platinum blond boy walk in with a few friends, so he was a bit shocked when he felt a tapping on his shoulder.

"Wha- Oh, Draco. Nice to see you again. Who are your friends?" Harry pointed to the other five in the room. "Well, he's Blaise Zabini." He pointed to an Italian boy with medium brown hair and bright, almost golden eyes. "They're Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle." He pointed to some muscular boys standing on either side of him. Probably body guards. "Daphne Greengrass" a girl with blond hair and icy blue eyes. "And Pansy Parkinson." He motioned to a brunette by the door. Harry thought he somewhat looked like a pug, but was smart enough to not say so.]

"It's very nice to meet you all. I'm Harry Potter." _and here it comes, _he thought.

"Wow! Are you _really _the Harry Potter?" Pansy said from Draco's side, where she seemed to have materialized out of thin air. While Draco jumped about a foot in the air, Harry pushed back his bangs and revealed his lightening bolt shaped scar.

Pansy started to compose herself when Blaise noticed the book Harry was reading. "What are you reading, Harry?" he asked, a bit of curiosity sneaking into his voice. "Oh, nothing." He went to put the book away, but Daphne was quicker and snatched the book off of the table before he could get close.

"Dark Arts, Harry? Didn't take you to be the type to read that stuff." Daphne pushed the book back to the tomato red Harry, who put it away before they could blink. "And if I am?" he asked, almost in a voice that said "Go ahead and tell, they won't believe it". "If you are, we could teach you." He hesitated. "...Okay. I accept your offer. Thank you, Daphne."

For the next few minutes, the sat and talked a while, before the door to the compartment banged open and a red headed boy walked in.

"Do you mind if I come in? The other compartments are full." Draco spoke "No. We have claimed this as ours, and will not share with the likes of you. Wait, let me guess. You have red hair, freckles, and hand-me-down robes? You must be a Weasley."

By now the boy was a red that rivaled his hair, and by the looks of it wanted to tear Draco's throat out. He refrained, and soon left the room. Draco scowled at the compartment door in which the... Weasley, he thought left.

After a few seconds of silent scowling, Harry asked him who that was. "That was a Weasley. Seven kids, and six too many. They can barely afford one wand, let alone seven years of school for all their children. They're some of the lowest wizards you can find."

At Harry's somewhat confused expression, Draco explained the different blood types for wizards. "At the top of the metaphorical food-chain, you have purebloods, like myself and my friends. In their family tree, there has never been a muggle. Although sometimes, to keep the blood clean, they mate with creatures. When they do that, there is a twenty-eight percent chance of a descendant getting what we call-"

"Creature inheritances," Harry finished. "Correct. How do you know that?" "After you tell me about blood types, I'll tell you ho I know." Draco pouted. "Fine."

"Now, after purebloods, you have halfbloods, like yourself. There are two types of halfbloods. One, which is more common, is when you have one wizard parent and the other is a muggle. Two, when both of your parents are magical, but one has a muggle in their background. That's how you're considered a halfblood. Some people like to argue and say that your a first generation pureblood, but you still have a muggle in the line.

"After halfblood comes mudblood, or muggleborn, as people say. The other word they think of as offensive. Their kind comes about when two muggles have a child and for no reason, the kid has a magical core. I can only explain this by saying that all muggles are squibs, but even _I _know that's codswallop.

"Next are both tied as being the lowest of the low, other than muggles, but we'll leave them out. Squibs are what happens when there is too much inbreeding in a family or when you excessively use your magic at a very young age. Tied with them are blood traitors, like the Weasleys. There are some cases when a pureblood family has one or two children who think mudbloods have a right to change our whole world, literally. Then, things like the Weasleys happen. The whole family thinks that the wizards shouldn't put limits on mudbloods and muggles, and that magic and muggle like can get along in harmony."

As Harry digested the large amount of information, he didn't notice the stares he was receiving.

"Well," prompted Pansy, "tell us how you know about creature inheritances!" _Oh, that, _he thought. With a grimace on his face, he pulled off his shirt. Before anyone could form a syllable in their head, the became dead silent.

They saw them. The big, black, feathery wings. They were beautiful. And when he turned around and fluffed his hair a bit, you could see more feathers. He looked like a bird of sorts.

He cast the spell to hide his wings once more, put his shirt back on and explained.

"I know you are generally supposed to come into any inheritances you have at sixteen or so, but a large amount of stress, rage, and pent up emotions can cause it to happen early. My ancestor, Ignotus Peverell, mated with a Shadow Raven. Generations later, and here I am."

When Harry finished the short story his friends were trying to shake off the shock.

OoOoOoO

"Firs' years, Firs' years o'er here!" Harry and his newly acquired friends walked toward the booming voice and Harry was awe-struck at the sheer_ size _of the man before them. The walked over to a boat, which was their transportation over the water to the school.

Harry, Draco, Daphne, and Blaise crowded into one boat, as there was only four to a boat. Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle were crowded with another girl who Harry didn't know.

All he thought about was how nervous he was. He thought of the hat telling him he belonged in no House here and to go home, or some strange mistake and that he had no magic, and worst yet, it all being a dream.

After a few minutes of riding the boat and gazing at the castle, they were in the entrance hall, waiting to be Sorted. He heard someone say that he was told you had to take a hard test to get in. He was on the verge of panic when the people around him let small shrieks.

He turned his head to see pearly white translucent ghosts. _Must be the House ghosts Pansy talked about._ He spotted one that looked frightening. If he remembered correctly, he was the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost.

They stopped their conversation and asked us what we were doing here. Harry spoke up. "We're the first year students, waiting to be Sorted." Another ghost, probably the Fat Friar, said he hoped to see us in Hufflepuff, as it was his House.

Just before Professor McGonagall came back, a boy with fiery red hair walked up to him.

"Hello, I'm Ron Weasley. Aren't you Harry Potter?" Harry looked a bit annoyed. "Yes, I am." "Cool! Want to be friends?" He put out his hand to shake. "Sorry, but I think I have plenty of friends." He motioned to everyone he met on the train.

If one could be more red than the boy's hair, it was said boy as he walked away, irritated for being blown off like that.

They didn't have to wait much longer after that before McGonagall came in to take them into the Great Hall.

She placed down a stool and an ancient hat. He was nervous about it before it started to _sing._ _What's next? Tap dancing pi__neapples?_

The hat finished its song and became statue still. McGonagall began listing names off of the list. Before he knew it, all of his friends were at Slytherin table. He forced himself not to tremble with fear. Finally, his name was called and all happy chatter was gone. It was deadly silent as he made his way up to the stool and sat down, the hat on his head obstructing his view of the Hall.

He heard a voice in his head, and knew that hat was looking at his personality, raiding his minds secrets.

"_A strong mind I see, Ravenclaw would be proud to have you. But your loyalty is amazing after what those muggles did to you. You have bravery, and a lot of it, But a bigger part of you wants to prove your worth. Sly as well, and one would be after living with them probably. Well, then, better be"_

"SLYTHERIN!" The table with green and silver erupted into applause as he took a seat next to Draco and across from Blaise and Daphne.

Tomorrow they had classes, and so the minute they got to their dorms, they were out like a light.


	5. Classes and Red-Heads

Harry Potter: Shadow Raven

Chapter five: Classes and Redheads

A/N: I want to address a few issues. Namely, the one with my grammar. Now, I can spell like nobody's business, but it's this Merlin-forsaken keyboard! I press the letters, and they just don't want to appear on screen. I don't have a beta (whatever that is), and I don't care to have one. In the future I will try a bit harder to get more of the errors out of the way but there will still be a few of them. Also, in chapter two, I say that Harry is one and seventy-five quarters human (I think). What I mean is out of a whole split up into four quarters, one quarter and seventy-five percent of another quarter is human. I hope that helped.

P.S: I'm so sorry I've taken so long to update! I planned on this being out ten days ago, but I couldn't find the time, I do hope you won't kill me for it!

OoOoOoO

Harry awoke next morning grinning like a loon, but quick as it came it was gone. He taught himself how to hold his laughter until appropriate (or when someone in say, Gryffindor gets hurt), and how to hold a mask of indifference.

He got up and gathered his clothes for the first day of school, and went to take a shower and change.

Ten minutes later found Harry and Blaise talking about classes until Draco got out of the shower, then they were heading off to breakfast.

OoOoOoO

When Harry opened the doors, the room became so tense he could cut the tension with a knife. He, Draco, and Blaise made it to Slytherin table and ate breakfast like nobody was even there except each other. Soon the class schedules were being passed out.

"Potions first, that's nice. Everyone knows Snape favors his snakes. He's never taken a single point from us," said Draco. Harry looked a little upset. "Yeah, but it's with the Gryffindors. I'm sure they're going to try and pull _something_."

OoOoOoO

Harry hit the nail on the head at breakfast.

As soon as they got to the classroom, a Weasley (_Probably Ronald), _came up to him and demanded why he had betrayed the wizarding world by going to the house of the snakes.

"Weasley," Harry said in the iciest tone he could, "if you don't get back in your seat on the other side of the room, you _will_ be forced. It won't be pretty or comfortable." He didn't miss Weasley's skin try and decide whether to pale to a ghost or turn red in anger, so his ears and nose turned cherry red while the rest of his face was a sickly white.

Inside, Harry felt excited. He'd been able to do _that_? Outside, however, Harry remained stony-faced.

When Weasley didn't move, Harry picked him up with the inhuman strength he had (thank you, inheritance), and threw him into his seat, ten feet away. A perfect shot, he noted.

Before anyone could comment, however, professor Snape glided into the room. Harry's instincts told him to be comfortable with him, just never let his guard down.

As the professor began roll call, he paused at Harry's name and said "Ah, yes. Harry Potter, our new celebrity." He finished with roll call and began with the introduction to the class.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," Snape began. He spoke barely over a whisper, but everyone heard him quite clearly. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here," he continued, "many of you will not believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.

I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

At the last sentence, paying no heed to the trembling Gryffindors or the snickering Slytherins, he began to write instructions on the board for an antidote to common poisons.

By the end of class, the only three to make the potion perfectly were Harry, Hermione, and Draco. Blaise had a bit of trouble, and Neville managed blow up his cauldron, causing a bit of laughter from a certain green and silver tied side.

After Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan took Longbottom to the hospital wing, the rest of the class left. Harry and Draco took out they're schedules and quickly memorized them before heading off to Transfiguration with professor McGonagall.

She gave a speech similar to Snape's, only this time Harry didn't pay much attention. When he received his books for class, he thoroughly read the books on classes he thought were going to be exceptionally difficult.

Not many thought Harry to be smart, as he was (in Muggle school) a failing student. He studied and payed rapt attention to class but never did homework and sat still and did nothing during class work. This was only so because when he used to to his work he would get phenomenal grades, he would be beaten because of being better at school than his straight-D cousin.

After the speech, McGonagall set them off to turn a match into a needle. Harry and Draco were the first to turn their matches into needles, Granger and Blaise being close seconds.

McGonagall passed Harry as he was finishing turning the match for the fourth time from match to needle. She looked at him. " Good job, Mr. Potter. Ten points to Slytherin for being the first to perfectly transfigure your match. Try designing it next." and with that she walked to Granger, as she had finished perfecting hers, earning her house ten points.

Harry tried to put a blur coloring to his needle, but couldn't. Finally, he put every ounce of focus he had into it. He thought about a shade of blue, cyan, and focused on his magics core. He cast the spell, and he had a cyan blue needle.

He attempted a pattern of green and silver, with a snake slithering around the needle middle, like a ring on a finger.

By the time he perfected this, class was over and McGonagall called them and their needles (and in some cases matches) up to her desk. Harry placed his on the desk, and she almost gawked at it, as did some others.

"Twenty points to Slytherin, Mr. Potter. I've never seen a first year do so well. Good work." Harry had to fight the smile threatening to break his mask. "Thank you, professor." and with that, they left to the rest of their classes.

OoOoOoO

The trio of Blaise, Harry, and Draco were just leaving dinner when a familiar red-head and his cronies walked up to them.

"Well, well, well what do we have here? Three slimy snakes, but one of them is truly a Gryffindor. Harry, why are you hanging out with _them_-" he threw a sneer at the others directions "-You're supposed to be in Gryffindor and you're supposed to hate all things Slytherin! You've been brainwashed, I bet."

Harry felt like he was going to laugh his head off. Was this kid serious?

"Weasley," Harry began,"I suggest that if you intend to wake up tomorrow, that you leave me alone." His voice would have made Jack Frost freeze to death. Either Weasley didn't hear it, or he was to stupid to pay attention to the threat.

"Please, come with us. We'll treat you better than any of those snake would." Harry was really annoyed by this. His colder than ever he said "no".

Weasley looked livid and his face was the color of his hair. He lifted his wand and tried to hex him, but before anyone could blink Harry had snatched Ron's wand right out of his hand. He handed it to Blaise, and continued in an empty voice. "Alright, then. You curse me, I pummel you."

He took Weasley by the collar of his shirt and used him like punching bag. He became bored quickly, and just released his claws and left a deep mark from his neck to his belly button. He threw him on top of his cronies, who he recognized as Thomas and Finnegan.

"Next time, you won't see the light light of day for a long time."

The trio of snakes just walked on to their common room as if this was normal. Almost as an afterthought, Blaise threw Weasley his wand.

Ron didn't even notice the bleeding until he passed out, his friends taking him to Madam Pomfrey.


	6. Howlers and Accusations

Harry Potter: Shadow Raven.

Chapter Six: Howlers and Accusations

A/N: In this chapter I plan on having people know about his inheritance, as the chapter title suggests. There will be questions, and there will be answers. They just won't be completely honest or exactly lies. Part truths, if you will. Remember Harry sinking a claw into Weasley? It plays a bigger role than you thought. Enjoy!

OoOoOoO

The week passed by all too quickly for Harry's liking, but at breakfast that morning, time seemed to freeze.

Harry was laughing about something or another when the owl post flew in. Harry's sooty owl, Crimson, flew in front of him with a light red envelope in its beak.

"Uh-oh Harry, that's a howler right there," said Blaise, "Everyone here will hear what it says!"

Harry looked infuriated. "I bet I know who _this_ is from," he said, scowling at Weasley, who looked positively delighted, "I can just ignore it, right?" "No, it'll just get worse," said Pansy.

Harry looked a bit nervous, but opened it nonetheless.

"HARRY POTTER! I CAN'T _BELIEVE_ YOU HURT MY DEAR RONALD! AND WITH CLAWS NONETHELESS! EVEN IF YOU HAVE THEM AS HE SAID, YOU WOULDN'T GET A CREATURE INHERITANCE UNTIL YOU'RE SIXTEEN! I HAVE HALF A MIND TO WALK RIGHT INTO THE SLYTHERIN DORMATORIES AND WRING YOUR LITTLE NECK AND HANG YOU ABOVE MY FIREPLACE!"

The whole hall had dropped everything that they were doing just to hear the howler. When it was over the letter left pandemonium in its wake. Screaming, shouting, questions, demands as to what he was. It was mayhem and it gave Harry a headache he wouldn't soon forget.

"Everyone will calm down _this instant_!" exclaimed Dumbledore, who by the looks of it was getting a headache to rival Harry's. "Mr. Potter, come to my office this instance. We will discus such things in a private setting. As for the rest of you, continue about as if nothing happened. It is a Saturday, spend it outside or something."

As Dumbledore finished his somewhat mini-speech, he and the entirety of the professors stood up and made their way out of the hall, Harry trudging behind.

He silently cursed his bad luck and ascended the spiral staircase to Dumbledore's office. It was a neat and orderly room, with moving portraits of what he assumed to be past Headmasters and Headmistresses. Over on the left of the old man's desk was a radiant phoenix. The plaque on the perch where it stood was the name Fawkes. All in all, the office was very nice looking, and intriguing what with all the doohickeys and whatchamacallits.

Harry took a seat in front of the desk, opposite of Dumbledore and the other professors.

"Harry," Dumbledore began, "we need to know just what you are. The howler you received mentioned you had claws? Did you know of them, or did you just learn of them when, as the letter states, when you were hurting young Mr. Weasley?"

Harry contemplated sweet-talking his way out of there, but realized it would take a miracle. He pulled out all the courage he had, and told them everything.

"I knew of them, sir. It started out towards the end of Summer, around a week before school started. I was painting the fence when my back started to feel much pain. It was usual for me to have broken bones and bleed, so I didn't think much of it. Dinner came around, and I was finishing eating the scraps of my cousins food when my back pain engulfed my whole body. My relatives went out for the night, so I called it a night and went back to my cupboard-"

McGonagall interrupted him. "Your cupboard?" she asked. "Yes. Everyone has a bedroom, and I have a cupboard as mine. It's a bit cramped, but it's fine."

He then continued with the story. "I went back to my cupboard to get some sleep. That didn't work at all, and the pain had reached a crescendo. I tried to keep quiet, in case the others had come home, but I couldn't hold my screams for much longer.

I vaguely remember screaming bloody murder. And my back ached more than anywhere, except the back of my head, even though my back was hurting more. I felt things forcing their way through my skin." Here he took a sip of the tea Dumbledore had provided.

"Then, it just stopped. The pain didn't fade, it didn't waver. It just _stopped_. Rather abruptly. I got up, as it didn't leave an aftershock of pain or soreness, and looked in the bathroom mirror. I had black, feathery _wings._ I had feathers under my hair! It was all so new, and so neat. I also had talons, though you could call them claws. It seemed fitting to say talons, because I resembled a bird.

The next day or so, I received a number of books. They just appeared in my room with a note. I have the note with me, if you'd like to read it." Harry dug around in his pocket for a minute before holding out a slightly crumpled piece of parchment.

The group of professors read it and gasped at the information. Snape recovered first. "Mr. Potter, do you know who this Raevyn N. is?" he asked. "No sir," Harry said.

"She," started professor Flitwick, "was both the last Shadow Raven and your great-grandmother. On your father's side, of course."

Harry, through and through, was not fazed. It should have surprised him, but really, being told you're a wizard and a rare creature (though the former indirectly) through a letter and books, not much more could surprise you afterwords.

Dumbledore, as was most of the room, was in a state of shock. "Harry," he began, "will you show us your wings and talons?" It was said as a question, but everyone knew it was a demand.

He sighed and removed his shirt. He said the counter spell to reveal his wings ("Ostende mihi pennas plumam!") and let his talons slide grow from his sharp nails.

The room gasped at the boy-bird hybrid before them. Those creatures were so rare, and almost never mate with humans. To see one of those rare combonation people was a treasured memory for most. For Albus Dumbledore, it posed a problem for his plans.

The nature of the Shadow Raven was to be a leader, sly, and most importantly, never take orders unless they feel it would benifit themselves.

He needed the boy to follow his every move with no questions asked. He already messed up the plans to have the boy in Gryffindor and to hate all Slytherins. Just the opposite! He couldn't let another of these plans fail, for it could have bad reprocutions for the Light.

Harry was getting a bit irrate at the fact everyone (including him) was just sitting there watching Dumbledore scheem. Harry knew he was scheeming because he could read lips, and Dmbledores were moving and making silent rants, curses, and plans.

Harry was just about to walk out unnoticed in the shadows when Dumbledore asked one last question. "Harry," he said, "If the other Slytherins catch wind of your inheritance, would you be okay with staying in the Gryffindor Tower, safe from accusations and unfriendly comments?"

Harry just looked at him with a blank face and a single eyebrow raised, and he knew the answer. Dumbledore just nodded solemnly, and let him and the staff leave for the morning classes.

OoOoOoO

"So, how was that meeting with Dumledork," asked Blaise as they walked out of the school and onto the Quidditch pitch for flying practice.

Harry grimaced, "It was odd, but what the man did was completely _him_, if you catch my drift. First, he told me too show them what creature I was as they didn't believe I was a Shadow Raven Then once I put my shirt back on, everyone just sat there for a while watching Dumbledore think. I think I was the only one there that could read lips, because he was talking, just with out sound. And get this! He said if the Slytherins 'catch wind' of what kind of creature I am, that I should stay with the _Gryffindors._ I tell you, the mans off his rocker."

"We've already established that," said Draco jokingly.

A few minutes after they and the other Slytherins arrived at the pitch, the Gryffindors came stampeding out to not be late.

Once everyone was next to a broomstick, Madam Hooch told us to put out our right hand and say "up!".

Harry stuck his hand out and said the command. His broom flew up into his hand, unlike many others. Even Draco and Daphne were having issues. On the Gryffindors side, Granger's broom just rolled all around, and Longbottom's just barely twitched.

Once everyone had mounted their broomsticks, Madam Hooch came around telling us how to hold on without a huge chance of falling off. Harry, who had never ridden a broomstick in his life, got off with a good job and ten points to Slytherin.

Once Hooch thought we were all safe, she said when she counted to three to kick off the ground and raise twenty feet in the air, then slowly come back down.

She go to two, but Daphne's nerves had already thought three, as she shot up in the air, twenty, thirty feet. Then, around thirty-two feet up, she fell. Everyone heard a sickening crack of a bone.

Hooch rushed over. "My my," she said, "Broken wrist. You need to be more careful on a broom. Come on, up you go." She turned to face the class. "If any of you so much as mounts a broomstick, you'll be expelled before you can say Quidditch." With that, she took Daphne to the hospital wing.

"Ha," laughed Weasley, "Slimy snakes don't even know how to count! She said three, idiots!" Weasley, and most of the Gryffindors, was rolling on the ground laughing.

Then the Weasel noticed something. "Hey, snakes," he called, "This your friends?" he then held up a Two-Way Mirror.

Harry spoke up. "Give it back, Weasel." Ron smirked, "Oh? How bad do you want this? Enough to fly for it?" He mounted his broomstick and shouted, "Catch me if you can!" and he was off.

Harry just mounted his broom and flew after him. He followed Weasley to the edge of the lake. "Looks like you'll swim for it, Potter!" and the let it drop near the edge somewhere fifty feet below. Harry took a deep breath, and went into a nosedive.

He plummeted ever faster, reaching out his hand to catch the mirror. It was in his reach, when Severus Snape walked out.

He hadn't said anything yet, and just looked on as Harry caught the mirror and was able to land the broom wonderfully.

"Mr. Potter," started Snape, "Would you care to tell me _why_ you were in the air when Madam Hooch specifically told all of you to stay on the ground?"

Harry put on a face of slight sadness. "Well, professor," Harry said, "Weasley snatched Daphne's Two-Way Mirror after she fell and broke her wrist. He made me chase after him, and he tried to throw it in the water, but I caught it. I just wanted to help my friend."

He turned to Ron. "Mr. Weasley, twenty-five points from Gryffindor for stealing another students belongings. Mr. Potter, come with me."

And with that, Harry followed Snape to wherever he was taking him.


	7. The New Seeker

Harry Potter: Shadow Raven

Chapter Seven: The New Seeker

A/N: Last chapter, I still _really_ wanted Harry on the Quidditch team, so I recreated the flight lesson from Philosophers Stone, only with Slytherins being wronged. We'll see here if Snape can be as cool about it as McGonagall.

OoOoOoO

Harry didn't dare ask where they were going. _'Probably to my dorm to let me pack my things,' _ he thought. Harry did not want to go back to the Dursleys unless he had to.

After many hallways and twisting staircases, they reached what looked like professor Flitwick's classroom. Snape proceeded to knock on the door.

"Yes, Severus," came a voice that could only be Flitwick. "Filius, I need to borrow Mr. Flint, please."

The two only had to wait a few more seconds for a tall kid with short chocolate brown hair came out of the classroom.

"You needed me, professor Snape?" he asked. He then noticed Harry was standing next to Snape. "Yes, Marcus. I believe I have found you a new Seeker." A Seeker? What was that, and why am I a new one? Those were a few of the many questions racing through Harry's mind.

Then it dawned on him. A Seeker plays an important role in Quidditch; Draco and Blaise were teaching him about common wizard world knowledge. They try and catch the golden Snitch, worth about one hundred-fifty points and when caught will end the game. But first years can't play Quidditch, or even have a broomstick.

"Sir," said Harry, "I thought that you could only start playing Quidditch for your House in second year. I don't even own a broomstick, and I'm sure the other students and even staff will disagree at the unfairness of it all. I don't even know if I'll do well or not."

The two thought about it for a minute, and finally Marcus spoke up. "Harry, I'm sure professor Snape can try and help you with the staff on how they view the situation. As for how good you are at the game, how about after dinner we do a little test. Nothing much, just seeing what position you'd be best in. What do you say?"

Harry thought about it for a minute. If he did try out, and _somehow _made the team, how could it help him? A future career choice, but not likely. Maybe if he could make friends in upper years (in Quidditch teams) he could keep them as friends in high places. After all, one cannot have too many connections.

After about two minutes, Harry put out his hand and said, "I'd be happy to try out for the team."

OoOoOoO

After dinner, Marcus (who was sitting fairly close to where Harry was) told Harry it was time to practice. He said his goodbyes to his friends and made his way to the Quidditch pitch.

Once the duo had gotten a pair of broomsticks, Marcus pulled out a box with a small lock on it.

Harry was getting nervous, but he knew that it would be beneficial to him in the long run.

Once Marcus had taken the lock off and opened the box and started explaining.

"Alright, now this-" he held up a red ball the size of a soccer (American) ball "is a Quaffle. Only the Chasers and the Keepers worry about this ball. A Chaser, three on each team, will pass this to their teammates and try to get it pass the Keeper and into the goal hoop. The Keeper tries to stop that from happening, and each goal is worth ten points."

He put the Quaffle back in place and handed Harry a bat. "You're going to need that. When I release the Bludger, I want you to hit it away from you, hard as you can. Ready?" Harry nodded and he unlocked the Bludger case.

A small back ball, about the size of a baseball, flew out of the case, up in the air, and back towards Harry. Harry took the bat, positioned it quickly, and hit it hard. Marcus looked a bit impressed, but it was hard to see pass the indifferent mask. His eyes were sparkling with happiness, and that gave him away.

"Good job, now this is the last one, the Snitch. I want you to mount your broom, take off, and try to catch it. I'll see how long it takes you."

Harry nodded once more before he took off, the wind in his hair, and he felt again like he were free. Although, flying with his wings was more fun.

Marcus let the Snitch go, and in the same second Harry was on the hunt, searching high and low, left and right for the golden walnut-sized winged ball. About eight six minutes later, Harry went into a dive, just as he had earlier that day. When he came back up, he raised his hand triumphantly, the golden Snitch inside.

Marcus now didn't bother with a mask; he was ecstatic. Never had he seen a second year- let alone a _first_ year- fly like that! He gathered up the rest of the balls, and turned to Harry.

"Welcome to the team, Harry. You're our new Seeker."

OoOoOoO

When Harry was walking back to the Slytherin common room, he ran into Ronald near the Great Hall. Ronald looked livid already just at the sight of Harry.

"What are _you _still doing here? I thought you were expelled." sneered Ronald.

"On the contrary, Weasel. Professor Snape thought I was doing a great job at flying, so he helped me get a spot on the Quidditch team." Harry smirked when he saw how red the Weasley's face could be.

This time, the Weasel's henchmen weren't there, so he was defenseless. "Of course," Ronald started,"Harry bloody Potter always gets his way. Boy-Who-Lived, and all that!"

If Harry was getting irritated, he didn't show it. He just kept that smirk on his face and kept on walking to the dungeons. Ronald tried to follow him to finish his sentence, but Harry punched him square in the nose. He heard a sickening crack.

Before anyone could tell on him (even if nobody was around), he took his wand and pointed it at Ronald's now broken nose. "_Os Confractum!_" he whispered. Ron yelped in pain once more as the broken bones fixed themselves.

"Be thankful I'm feeling generous, Weasel." Harry continued on to the common room.


	8. Quidditch Quarrels

Harry Potter: Shadow Raven

Chapter Eight: Quidditch Quarrels

A/N: Alright, some things need to be said. First, HAPPY NEW YEARS EVE. Second, my mistakes. Chapter three, Diagon Alley, I said Snape deducts points from Ravenclaw in the flashback part. School hadn't begun yet, so I think I'll just call it an impulse as he might have seen the Ravenclaw Head of House. The other mistake was in chapter seven, The New Seeker. When Harry is catching the Snitch, I meant to say he caught it in six minutes, but before that I put eight. I blame the fact that I was eating dinner. With that, lets continue...

OoOoOoO

It was two weeks before the first Quidditch match of the year, and the Slytherins with their secret weapon were _not _going to lose any time soon.

That morning, during breakfast, the post-owls flew in. Crimson, along with two owls Harry believed were school owls, were carrying a long rectangular box.

They set the box down in front of Harry, who was shocked to say the least. Nevertheless, he and his friends cut their breakfast short and went to the common room to open the mystery package. Once they got to the common room, Harry opened it and was amazed.

There, in all its glory, was a Nimbus 2001, a year before the model hit the stores.

"Is this really for me? A broomstick, a model that won't be released for another _year._ This is way too good." said Harry, who felt like he wanted to do a couple of back flips out of pure joy.

All Draco and Blaise could do was look, as they were lost in their own thoughts.

Harry checked his watch, bringing the others out of their musings. "Whoa, we need to move, or we'll be late for Charms!"

They took off for class after Harry put his new broom away.

OoOoOoO

One day before the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and the Silver Slytherin Trio (as people have taken to calling them that) couldn't be more exited if they tried.

Harry's Quidditch training sessions had gotten harder and more frequent, but it was worth it. Now, he could do practically anything on a broom that he set his mind to. Barrel rolls, dives, smooth acceleration. The new Gryffindor Seeker, Crystalline Summers, didn't stand a chance.

OoOoOoO

It was the morning that the Quidditch match that would kick off the year that Harry felt like he was going to throw up the bacon he was eating. '_What if I don't do well? What if I catch the Snitch when were more than one hundred-fifty points behind? What if-'_

Harry was brought out of his waking nightmare by Marcus, who told him that it was time to go.

He said goodbye to his friends, who in turn said good luck, and went to the locker rooms.

OoOoOoO

The stands quickly filled up with students and staff, and Lee Jordan of Gryffindor started the announcements.

"WELCOME TO THE FIRST QUIDDITCH MATCH OF THE YEAR!" he began after casting a '_Sonorus' _on himself. "THE MATCH WILL BE BETWEEN THE SLYTHERIN SNAKES AND THE GRYFFINDOR LIONS! ON YOUR MARKS-" Madam Hooch started positioning the balls.

"GET SET-" the balls were about to launch in the air.

"FLY!" the balls flew up into the air, everyone zooming through the air. But none were faster than Harry.

"And it's Katie Bell from Gryffindor passing the Quaffle to Johnson! Johnson throws to the hoop- Oh, blocked by the Slytherin Keeper Marcus Flint."

There were boos and irritated hisses coming from everyone but the Slytherins, who were clapping and laughing at Gryffindors pathetic team.

Meanwhile, while all that was going on, Harry spotted the Snitch near the Ravenclaw stands. He swiftly but inconspicuously flew over to it, making sure that Summers didn't see him.

So much for that plan.

The Gryffindors chose this day to notice subtle things, and were screaming like Banshees at Crystalline to get the Snitch. She flew fast on her Shooting Star 2000 (the latest model of the brand) towards Harry and consequently, the Snitch. But by the time she had gotten close, Harry had already began a speedy dive to the ground. Everyone was on the edge of their seats. Even those on broomsticks seemed to have dropped everything to watch.

He felt the wind rustling his jet black hair and feathers, his wings itching to come out, his heart racing faster than a bullet. He didn't even notice Summers chasing after the Snitch as well. He felt weightless. If drugs are addictive, than flying, with wings or broomsticks, was Harry's high.

He raised his hand high in the air, the Golden Snitch trying feebly to escape his grasp. The Slytherins all went wild with deafening cheers. He looked at the Gryffindor team. The only ones who weren't glaring daggers were the Weasley demon twins, Fred and George if he recalled. They were studying him. He would talk to them later.

Lee seemed disappointed when he announced "Harry Potter, the first year Slytherin Seeker has caught the Snitch! Final score is one hundred-ninety to thirty. Slytherin wins!"

The rest of the Slytherin team flew down to meet him, and the Gryffindors just landed without a word. Well, except the Weasley twins, they were muttering to each other and throwing small looks at Harry. Yes, he'll defiantly need to talk to them.

OoOoOoO

When they went back to the common room, they had the mother of all after parties. Someone was able to sneak into the kitchen and get the House-elves to make them some pastries. There was even a cake that read "Slytherin pride".

Finally, after five hours of games, partying, and pastries, Harry needed to go to sleep. The adrenaline rush the game had given him had completely left him at this point. He took a quick shower, changed into his pajamas, and fell into a dreamless sleep with a small smile on his face.

A/N 2: Yeah, this chapter isn't my best work, but I wanted to get something for you for the New Years. I hope you enjoyed, because I had fun writing this chapter. I've never written how a game of Quidditch would work. And yes, Crystalline Summers is one of my four OC's. If you see Raevyn Night, Luna Willow, or Leighanne Ivester (me), they're all mine! All of them, **insert evil laugh here**! Cough, choked on a bug.


End file.
